Stormy Weather Brings Friends Together
by btamamura
Summary: A sudden rainfall brings two unlikely people to the same area. One of them is terrified of storms. The other just might know how to help. Rated for language


**Disclaimer: **_I do not own Red vs. Blue or the characters. They are the property of RoosterTeeth, etc. I also do not own __**Stop**__ by the Spice Girls._

**Notes: **_**For a while now, I've wanted to write a fic for Wash and Donut, just a little something to help ease some awkwardness between the two of them after events of Recreation, even if those were somehow resolved in season 10.**_

_**Anyway, Donut's past mentioned in this fic is non-canon, not unless the guys at RoosterTeeth say otherwise. I also wanted a bit of a sweet moment between the members of the Red team, avoiding **__be a jerk to Donut__** behaviour, while still keeping **__Sarge, be a jerk to Grif__**, because it's just not Red team without it.**_

_**There is the usual language warning, and no slash at all in this one, it's just friendship. There's also some Donut angst thrown in. Enjoy!**_

The weather in that Box Canyon was usually stable; the sun shining and not a cloud in the blue sky. It was once in a blue moon it shifted, and always without any warning - natural or otherwise.

It was one of those days. Wash was out 'patrolling', while the sound of cursing and screaming came from Blue base. He had to get away from the quarreling Caboose and Tucker before he lost what was left of that thin strand of his sanity.

He let out a sigh. Then came the first plop. Then, a torrential downpour. "Shit! Not again!" It wasn't the first time since he'd joined the Blue team that he'd been caught in the surprise rain, but it didn't make him feel any better than the first one.

He examined his surroundings, judging the base to be too far. He knew there was a cave nearby, he just had to find it. "There!" He spotted it and made a run for the shelter.

He sighed in relief after finally no longer hearing the numerous drops of water assaulting his helmet. "I'll wait here until it's over." He sat near the entrance, watching the thick H2O curtain covering everything, barely making anything in the distance visible. He almost relaxed. Almost. A sound from deep in the cave did not allow it.

The sound was approaching with each second passing, causing him to grip his rifle tightly, just in case he'd need it.

"Hello? Anybody there?"

The voice was familiar, but he couldn't relax.

The sound became clearer. Footsteps, each crunching from the dirt and stones on the cave floor. "I know I heard somebody come in here!"

He faced away from the entrance, rifle aimed at the ready. He had to be careful.

A blond man in lightish-red civvies appeared, flashlight in hand. He let out a small sigh of relief. "Oh, it's just you, Wash...um, why are you pointing your rifle at me?"

He lowered it. "I can't be too careful."

"You're still a tight-ass. I'll have to loosen you up a bit, make you more relaxed and comfortable."

He rolled his eyes at the double entendre. "I'm not that much of a tight-ass. I'm just cautious." He noticed the blond didn't have a weapon. "Where is your gun, Donut? What if it hadn't been me or any of our friends?"

"Oh, it's with my armour, back in the cavern. It got soaked from that downpour. Looks like yours did too. Come with me, I've got a fire going, it'll be warmer than sitting here."

Even though Donut only ever brought up being shot by him once, Wash still felt a need to be cautious. Maybe the younger man had a grudge on him and wanted to corner him. _No, stop that, you're being too much of a worry-wart._ He felt some of the water seeping through parts of him not covered by the steel armour. Donut's offer was sounding rather welcoming. "Very well. Please lead me there."

"Alrighty! Follow me, but mind your step; some of the rocks on the path are easy to trip over." He turned about-face, and led the ex-Freelancer further into the cave.

Wash noticed Donut's armour suit and helmet sitting on some large rocks, the younger's gun sitting beside the helmet.

"Take your armour off and let it dry. We can hear the rain from here, so we'll know when it ends."

He nodded and removed his helmet, followed by the rest of the suit. He was standing there in a grey shirt and black shorts. He propped the armour and helmet in a similar manner to Donut's, then sat near the fire. "Have you done this before?"

"Plenty of times before I joined the military. I somehow had a habit of getting caught in the rain and running to the nearest shelter. Once, it was a tree hollow, another it was in the local playground under the large slide." He stretched before pulling his knees to his chest. "How'd you wind up caught in the rain?"

"Caboose and Tucker's screaming was getting on my last nerve, so I went 'patrolling'." He rolled his pale blue eyes and chuckled bitterly. "Of course, today had to be a wet one."

"I don't mind the rain all that much. Thunder and lightning though, completely different. Never liked it."

"I'm not keen on it either, to be honest. I'm not afraid of it, I just don't like it."

"Yeah. Same here." Donut forced a laugh.

Wash knew the flamboyant sim trooper was lying, but he didn't say anything.

A loud rumble. "Damn it, should've known..." the former Freelancer grumbled. He knew that sound.

Donut flinched as another sounded, the rumble echoing through the cavern. "Shit...not now..." More rumbles caused him to tightly close his eyes, grit his teeth and hug himself.

Wash noticed. "It'll be alright, we're safe in here."

He whimpered.

"Donut, try thinking it's something else."

"Like what?"

He froze. When was the last time he'd heard such terror in one person's voice? Even when he and Maine teamed up to hunt down the sim troopers to get back Epsilon, he hadn't heard such a tone. Not even when Maine used the capture unit on Tex in such a horrifying way; not even Church's scream could compare to Donut's whisper.

"Someone...please...make it stop..."

Sarge laughed to himself, seeing Grif getting soaked to the skin.

"Sir! Donut hasn't come back yet!" Simmons reported.

"Ahh, he's fine. Probably off playing with his dolls again."

"No, Sir. This is serious. Donut is petrified of storms."

"Is that so?" Sarge decided not to comment on Donut's fear. After all, thanks to his paratrooper days, he's terrified of heights. Instead, he turned back to the loudly bitching Grif and laughed harder.

"Sir!" Simmons sighed. He knew Sarge wasn't meaning to be disrespectful to Donut, so he didn't say anything more. He still wished the older man would act a little more seriously about the dilemma.

"He'll be alright. He's probably in the cave...hm, hope he stays out of the acoustic zones."

Wash was at a loss. He could tell Donut's reaction to the thunder was worsening by the second. Pretty soon, he was certain, Donut's mind would shut down and he'd go catatonic. He did not want that to happen.

He shivered violently, trying his hardest not to scream. His normally twinkly blue eyes were rimmed with red as he cried through the terror.

Enough was enough. He abandoned the fear of Donut maybe wanting to attempt killing him in vengeance. He abandoned the awkward feeling he got from thoughts of holding another male he wasn't quite friendly with. "Don't think more of this!" He hurried to Donut and wrapped his arms around him. It helped his childhood storm-terrors. At least, he thought it did...or maybe it was a lingering memory left by Epsilon? Either way, it helped whoever's memory it was, so he had to try it. "Sing."

More shivers with another rumble.

"Sing something. Ignore the storm, drown it out with your singing. Sing something by the _**Spice Girls**_ for all I care! Just, hurry and sing something before your mind shuts down!"

He nodded against Wash's shoulder and opened his mouth.

"Sing something...quick."

The words came out as a squeak at first, the result of having a tight throat due to emotion. "_**You just walk in, I make you smile, it's cool but, you don't even know me...**_"

"That's it. Keep singing. When you start getting louder, I'll let go, but I want you to keep singing. Shout it if you have to. Focus on the song and your voice."

"_**Stop right now, thank you very much, I need somebody with the human touch...**_"

Wash smiled slightly. He didn't actually expect the younger man to sing something by the _**Spice Girls**_. But, he didn't tell him to cease. He could already tell it was working. He felt less trembling and he noted the younger's voice was becoming stronger.

"_**And we know that you can go and find some other, take or leave it 'cause we've always got each other...**_"

"Okay, I'm going to let go now. Remember, keep singing. Shout it out." He slowly released his hold and moved back.

"_**DON'T YOU KNOW IT'S GOING TOO FAST, RACING SO HARD YOU KNOW IT WON'T LAST...**_"

"That's it. Keep doing that." He listened out for the storm, hoping to know when the worst of it will end. He hoped it wouldn't be much longer, it looked like Donut was showing signs of pain.

The song ended, but the thunder continued to rumble. "Wash...I can't sing any more..."

"That's fine, you did well."

"Do you want to know why I hate storms?"

"Only if you want to tell me. Don't feel obliged."

"I do. Maybe, if I talk about it, my fear might pass."

"Alright. But, don't force it. If you need to stop, then stop."

"Okay. Well...it happened when I was a kid."

"My best friend Tim and I were walking home, and a storm started. It sounded bad, and I insisted we find some nearby shelter. But, Tim was reckless. He said the storm wasn't that bad and claimed we'd make it home alright. I didn't want to chance it, the lightning bolts were clear in sight. I tried once more to convince him to stay in the shelter with me. He called me a wuss, and started on his way home. He was at least three feet away when it happened. A lightning bolt struck, and it hit him. I went to make sure he was alright. But..." His voice trembled and tears refilled his eyes. "He...he was killed. I saw my best friend die...we were only nine. He'd been admitted onto the hockey team at school...but, before he could play that first match, before he could grow up, get a diploma, get married...he died. It was so sudden. Since then...storms have terrified me. Every time one starts, I can't stop seeing Tim get struck by lightning, falling to the ground completely still."

"It is no surprise, not after what happened."

"Y-you're not going to tell me to suck it up, get over it and move on?"

"I've got too many of my own traumatic memories to 'get over'. If I told you to, I'd be one hell of a hypocrite." _Of course, most of those memories aren't even mine..._ "No point going all therapist on you. I won't tell you to get over it and move on. But, I will say this: find a method to cope with the storms. You aren't able to move on from that horrific day, but you should find a way to make it a little easier to deal with it."

"Isn't that what a therapist would say?"

"Nah, they get all technical and shit. It's what friends say."

He wiped at his eyes. "Are we friends?"

"Hmm...kind of. You haven't tried to kill me, so that's meaningful."

"You listened to me. Thanks, Wash."

"Sure." He listened. "Hear that?"

"It's over? Thank god for that!"

"Amen. The rain's stopped too. We should get back into our armour and back to our bases." He sighed. "Though, I'm a little reluctant; something tells me those two made another mess for me to clean up. Honestly!" He started putting his armour back on.

"At least you won't be nursing a sick Grif. I'm almost certain Sarge made him stand in the rain all day again. Wanna trade?"

"Thanks, but no, I'll pass. Grif seems like a problem patient. I'd rather clean Caboose and Tucker's 'battlefield' than put myself through that." He slid on his helmet and saw Donut do the same. "Thanks for letting me join you back here."

"I'll always welcome fellow soldiers to my back hole!"

He rolled his eyes and smiled slightly. _He's back to normal_. He made his way out of the cave. Donut was behind him, but the paranoid thoughts of the lightish-red armoured sim trooper shooting him had departed the recesses of his mind.

Donut returned to Red base, he saw Sarge kicking the wall. "Has Grif caught another cold, Sarge?"

"Of course he has! He'll use any excuse to get out of work. Not that the lazy fat-ass has use for them to begin with."

"Should I start putting my bedside manner to use?"

"No need, Simmons is takin' care of it. Why don't cha go rest up? That was one hell of a storm we had!"

"Well...alright, Sarge, if that's what you want." He made his way through the base to the rooms, passing Grif's on the way to his own.

Simmons noticed him. "You alright, Donut? I know you hate storms..."

"I'll be okay. Thanks for tending to Grif today."

"Sure."

"Hey, I'M the sick one! Pay attention to me!" Grif demanded.

"You. Owe. Me," Simmons growled before returning to Grif, 'requesting' he shut his big mouth before it's taped shut, never mind it's currently how he has to breathe since his nose is plugged up.

Donut knew Simmons was serious. Grif WAS a problem patient, so he felt grateful and sympathetic to the Dutch-Irish soldier. He continued to his room and shut the door after entering it. He flopped himself on the bed and closed his eyes. For the first time since that tragic afternoon in his childhood, he did not see his best friend's still form in the middle of the park. Instead, he saw the concerned, friendly face of the man he shared the cave with.

As Wash tidied the mess after sending the sim troopers to their rooms (_what am I, their father?_), he thought about the interesting afternoon he'd had. He hummed the song Donut had sung as he fixed the chairs around the table.

It was unexpected, just like the sudden storm, but somehow, he'd bonded with a certain effeminate, flamboyant soldier from the Red team who wore pink armour though claimed it to be lightish-red. He found that wasn't so bad.


End file.
